A Perished Atmosphere
by Nikki Altava
Summary: Lost/Unwound Future. Dark!Layton. The most realistic stories are the ones of a madman.


**AN: I don't own Professor Layton. And that sucks. **

**Welcome to my latest fic- A Perished Atmosphere. It says it's a Lost/Unwound Future AU... But it's kind of a massive AU. Of all of them. Sorta. **

**This fic will be containing quite a lot of OOC-ness, particularly with Claire. Which is a bit different for me, because those of you that know me, will know that I really, really, really love Claire to pieces. But I also really like dark!Layton.**

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><p><strong>A Perished Atmosphere<strong>

**Chapter One**

It was snowing.

London had never shed more tears than it had that night than ever before. Clive's fortress of doom had ripped up through the Thames and destroyed everything in its sight. The city had been filled with destruction and chaos; homes has been ripped up from the ground, lives had been lost and those that were left had nothing to do but weep. Ash had danced down from the sky, but now it wasn't ash. It was snow.

But none of that mattered. Not now that she was gone. Again.

The Professor looked up at the blackened sky. It was barely the evening, but never had it been so dark. His hat was off in public space for the first time in forever, the tufts of brown hair shivered in the wind, collecting snowflakes as they did so. Tears began to roll down his face, as he mourned the same person for the second time.

It angered him. Twice. Twice now had he lost the woman he loved. Twice now he failed in saving her. Twice.

"Uhm... Professor?"

Young Luke was standing ten feet behind him or so, his backup against the wall of the alley the Professor had led him to. He frowned deeply; he hated it when this happened. Luke was careful not to get himself in a worked up, panicky state. It was okay, he told himself. The Professor was safe... No matter what had been going on inside his head... The Professor was not dangerous... Was he?

"Professor?" Luke repeated himself, gritting his teeth as he bravely stepped forward.

It took the Professor another moment or so to adjust himself. He placed his top hat back on (he never was fully dressed without it) and turned himself around to face his "apprentice".

"Come along then, Luke," the Professor nodded, standing up straighter. He almost looked normal; he even forced a tiny smile. "Let's go home."

Luke nodded, clutching his brown satchel and beginning to march off towards where the Professor's car, the Laytonmobile (of course, it deserved a name), had been parked. The Professor shortly followed. Luke watched Layton as he glanced around the streets, furrowing his brow at the Professor's behaviour. With each step, the man seemed to wince, as if he'd stepped bare-foot on glass. He was shaking. Looking at the London streets, which were coincidentally rather quiet- this clearly was a sleepy part of London- Layton's eyes showed nothing but heartbreak. Never had the young boy seen him so sad.

-X-X-

"THAT'S IT!" Clark swung his fist down on the coffee table, sending the sound of a crash all through the Triton household.

Two gasps echoed in an aftershock after the ex-Mayor had erupted in anger, shortly followed by the sound of a newborn crying. Brenda, Clark's wife and Luke's and the newborn's Mother, looked up with a stern glare. The newborn, which lay in the brunette's arms curled up in a tight, linen blanket, continued to shriek at the sound of her Father's enraged yell. With a quiet sigh, Brenda began to rock the little one, her eyes switching between her daughter, her son, and her husband. Luke, who was indeed the son, glanced down at the floor with a saddened look on his face.

"Luke..." Brenda began softly. "Why don't you go and get ready for bed. I'll be in in a moment."

"But..." Luke began to try and protest.

"Do as your Mother says," Clark quickly instructed, as he sat down on the settee, his gaze just as stern as his voice.

"Fine..." Luke grumbled so quietly that he almost said nothing at all, before turning away and leaving for his room. It took a lot of effort to resist the the temptation to slam the door behind him.

Brenda watched with concerned eyes as her son left the room, before turning to face Clark, who was looking out of the window that opposed his seat. His face hadn't changed since he'd spoken; there was no way Brenda could chance his mind, but it had gotten to the point where she thought- no, knew- it was best that way. This had gone on for far too long now.

"Sorry," Clark finally said. His voice was rather hesitant; he was trying not to show his frustration, but it was impossible not to. "I didn't mean to startle Poppy."

Brenda bit her lip and looked back down at the infant. Her face poked out of the blanket to reveal the small, round face of the three week old baby. She certainly was beautiful. Even when she cried. However, her sobs were beginning to subside as she fell back to sleep, worn out.

"It's okay. I understand that Hershel is your friend," Brenda considered forcing a smile,but she didn't see the point. Not when things were in this deep. "It's been hard on him. And it's affected us. None of us, including Hershel, deserved any of this."

"And I brought my son into it..." Clark murmured in response. "It was selfish of me...I honestly thought it would help him."

Brenda took his hand (balancing the bundle against the arm of the settee with her other arm wrapped around Poppy) reassuringly. "We both did, love."

Clark sighed yet again. "There's no doubt about it, though. After what Luke said tonight; what happened with Hershel today... These hallucinations are getting more and more ridiculous every day. It's frightening Luke- it's obvious from the way he talks about it, that stutter in his voice..."

"I know," Brenda agreed. "But we can't refrain him from Luke. Both of them have created a bond. And I do think that Luke has helped him. I do think that he dragged out the process of Hershel's- err- deterioration."

"Perhaps... But you can't deny that it's gotten to the point where Hershel is... Well, a danger."

Brenda shut her eyes in dismay.

"It pains me to say it. I-it really does, but it is true, Brenda. You know it is as well as I do."

Brenda slowly opened her eyes, but turned away from her husband, making sure to keep her eyes on her daughter. After all, it was a completely natural thing to do.

"Yes. I agree that Hershel may no longer be safe..." her words were quiet, but they didn't need to be loud. "So, what do we do?"

"We move."

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><p><strong>AN: Hope you enjoyed it! <strong>

**Fyi, Poppy: I really think Luke would be a FAB big brother. So I may sometimes include Poppy in random fics from now on (sometimes I just love a headcanon so much I can't just stick with a one-shot about them)!**

**It would mean a lot if you took your time to write a review- even just a short one!**

**Nikki~~**


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